


Sidewalk Eggs

by phantomthief_fee



Series: BATIM Drabbles [23]
Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: Alternate Universe, Graphic Depictions of Illness, Rated teen for swearing, Smoking, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-22
Updated: 2020-01-22
Packaged: 2021-02-19 08:00:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22307803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phantomthief_fee/pseuds/phantomthief_fee
Summary: Sometimes Wally cooks eggs on the sidewalk.
Series: BATIM Drabbles [23]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/910824
Comments: 10
Kudos: 35





	Sidewalk Eggs

[@arcadequeerz](https://tmblr.co/mSEEp0WdEjWvyTFucx60kyw) posted [this](https://arcadequeerz.tumblr.com/post/190262874570/batim-studio-server-in-wally-sidewalk) and I can’t not write it.

Warning; this gets…really gross. 

* * *

Wally fried eggs on the sidewalk when it was hot. 

Sammy wasn’t sure why he did this because a.) it was incredibly unsanitary, and b.) it absolutely would not cook the egg properly. The first time he’d seen Wally doing it, he’d been absolutely baffled by the scene before him. 

He’d snuck out of the studio to have a cigarette to ease some of his stress. Yes, he was trying to quit, but he needed something to take the edge off of his stress. When he’d opened the back door to sneak out, he’d found Wally crouched on the sidewalk, staring at an egg. He had a carton of eggs right next to him. The cigarette in Sammy’s mouth dropped to the ground as his mouth gaped open.

“What the actual fuck are you doing?” He asked. 

“Makin’ lunch,” Wally replied, glancing back at him with a goofy grin. “You want some?” 

Sammy stared at him for a moment, trying to figure out if this was some sort of joke. Unfortunately, Wally’s expression was completely sincere. Which meant Wally was genuinely going to eat the sidewalk eggs. Sammy wasn’t sure whether to be concerned or amused. 

“….I’m good,” he said slowly. 

Wally shrugged and turned back to his eggs. “Eh, your loss.”

“I’ll have some.” Henry suddenly stuck his head out the back door. 

Sammy stifled the urge to roll his eyes and groan. “Of course you will, Stein.”

Henry walked out to hunker down beside Wally, both of them watching the eggs intently. Wally occasionally poked at them with a stick. By this point, all desire Sammy had to smoke was gone. 

“You idiots are going to get salmonella,” he said. “There’s no way the _sidewalk_ is going to cook them properly.”

“Aw, don’t be so negative, Sammy,” Wally scoffed. “We’ll be fine!”

They were not fine. 

The next day when Sammy came in, he found Henry slumped over his desk, considerably paler than usual and drenched in sweat. Then Wally stumbled past, equally pale and sweaty, and vomited into one of his mop buckets. Sammy fought the urge to grin in self-satisfaction. His friends were sick. This wasn’t the time for him to gloat. But he couldn’t help himself.

“I hate to say I told you so, but-” He was cut off by Wally throwing up loudly and messily. Sammy took a step back. Well…He’d gotten his point across.

“The egg…betrayed me, Sammy,” Henry whimpered. 

“You’re an idiot, Stein.” Sammy sighed. 

.

Despite this disastrous incident, Wally continued to attempt to cook eggs on the sidewalk. A few days after Henry’s departure from the studio, Sammy found Wally outside again, sadly poking at an egg he’d cracked on the sidewalk.

“It’s not the same without him,” he mumbled.

“Didn’t you learn anything from the last time?” Sammy asked, starting toward him. “You’re going to get sick-”

“Maybe I won’t this time!” Wally snapped back, his face starting to get red and blotchy as tears sprung up in his eyes. “Henry probably took all the salmonella with him when he hecking LEFT US!” He sniffed loudly, snot starting to leak from his nose. 

Wally was ugly when he cried. Very ugly. He had the sort of crying face that made you both uncomfortable and want to comfort him. Wally had been crying a lot since Henry had left. Sammy couldn’t help but feel awful seeing him like this. Wally was always so bright and cheerful. It felt wrong for him to be so distraught. 

“…Maybe you’re right,” Sammy conceded after a moment. “Look, I’ll…I’ll eat them with you.” Internally, he was kicking himself. He was absolutely going to get sick from this. But the way Wally’s face brightened made him feel better about the Hell he was about to endure. 

“You’re gonna love ‘em! They’re really good!” Wally said as he scooped up the barely cooked egg and presented it to Sammy on a paper plate from the break room.

“It smells…great…” Sammy gritted his teeth and tried to will away the vomit rising in his throat. He gingerly took the plate from Wally, staring down at the runny yellow mess. 

“Should I eat it with my hands?” He asked, poking at it with his finger. 

“Yeah, that’s fine.” Wally nodded. He watched Sammy expectantly with the air of a puppy who’d just done a good thing. 

“Okay…” Sammy took a deep breath, sliding it into his mouth. It was even worse than he’d expected. How Henry and Wally had managed to eat this without trouble was beyond him. 

“See? It’s good, right?” Wally smiled wider. 

“Mm-hm.” Tears were springing up in Sammy’s eyes. It was just so awful. But he couldn’t make Wally sad. Not after coming so far. He managed to choke it down, although keeping it down proved a challenge. 

He felt sick for most of the day, trying desperately to keep himself from emptying the contents of his stomach. He did end up throwing the eggs back up halfway through the day, though. On his way back from this, he ran into Joey in the hallway. Sammy wasn’t really in the mood to talk, but Joey stopped him anyway. 

“Were you eating _eggs_ off the sidewalk today?” He asked, putting a hand on Sammy’s shoulder. 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Sammy replied. He didn’t know how Joey had found out and he didn’t care. He felt like fucking death. 

“Why didn’t you offer me any?” 

“Excuse me?” Sammy blinked, absolutely certain he’d heard wrong. But, no, Joey looked…genuinely hurt he hadn’t shared the sidewalk eggs with him. Of fucking course he was. 

“Hey, Franks?” Sammy yelled over his shoulder, trying to suppress the vomit rising up as he raised his voice. “Joey wants some of your eggs!”

“Aw, gee! Really?” Wally stuck his head inside, grinning from ear to ear. 

“Yes, of course!” Joey said, as though half-cooked eggs that tasted like asphalt and dirt was a perfectly normal thing to want. 

“You’re all fucking losers,” Shawn scoffed, striding up from the Toy Department. “I could eat 50 of those things!”

Shawn didn’t come in for two weeks after that, and the next day Sammy, Joey, and Wally were sick as dogs. 

Sammy ended up vomiting into one of his prized violins. His **favorite** violin. Once he wasn’t in any danger of throwing up again, he took it to a music shop and begged the owner to find some way to restore it. She’d given him a look, but took his money and told him to come back later. He threw up again when he got back to the studio.

Upon coming in and finding Joey, Sammy, and Wally all throwing up into whatever receptacle they could find, Norman knew exactly what had happened.

“Sidewalk eggs again?” He asked, leaning over Sammy. 

“Yeah.” Sammy managed to groan out before violently vomiting into the trashcan he was hunched over. 

“You want some sometime, Norman?” Wally asked from a few feet away where he too was hunched over a trashcan. 

“Um, I’m allergic.” Norman smiled politely. “No thanks.”

“I saw you eating an omelet the other day you fucking liar,” Sammy hissed, clutching the trashcan tighter. Norman vanished as quickly as he could.

When Shawn returned from his 2-week sick leave, he proclaimed that the sidewalk eggs had changed him.

“I’m never gonna eat another egg again,” he said. “Hell, I don’t even wanna **see** another egg!”

A moment later, with perfect comedic timing, Wally walked up to Shawn.

“Hey, wanna go cook eggs on the sidewalk-” He was cut off by Shawn screaming at the top of his lungs and running away.

Sidewalk eggs were officially banned from the studio after that and everyone breathed a sigh of relief when summer ended and it was no longer hot enough for egg cooking.

.

The legend of the sidewalk eggs didn’t die, though. 

30 years later, sitting in the safehouse with Sammy, Henry found himself longing once more for Wally’s sidewalk eggs. Especially since all he really had to eat was stale bacon soup. 

“Man, I really miss those sidewalk eggs,” he sighed to himself as he stared into his soup can. Sammy looked up from his own can, staring at Henry as though his friend had just gone crazy.

“What?” Henry got a bit defensive. “They were good.”

“Henry, I say this with great love.” Sammy reached out and put a hand on Henry’s shoulder. “You’re a fucking disgusting little man. Those eggs were the worst thing I ever ate.”

“They were better than this,” Henry insisted, shaking his empty can. “I would take a thousand sidewalk eggs over one more can of bacon soup any day.”

It was at that point that Sammy’s brain seemed to blue-screen and Henry had to change the subject to get Sammy back to normal. He kept bringing up the sidewalk eggs, though, much to Sammy’s growing annoyance.

In fact, Henry brought up the sidewalk eggs so much that Sammy eventually snapped. 

“Those sidewalk eggs-” Henry began, only for Sammy to grab him by his lapels and slam him against the wall. It was actually kind of hot, but Henry tried not to focus on that. A demonic hell-studio wasn’t exactly the best time for being horny.

“Stein, if you say ‘sidewalk eggs’ one more time fucking time I’m shutting you out of the Miracle Station the next time the Ink Demon comes prowling,” Sammy growled, his face inches from Henry’s. 

Henry stared at him. Then, ever so slowly, he smiled. 

“Sidewalk eggs,” he whispered. Sammy muttered some curse and let go, throwing up his hands. 

There was a reason Henry didn’t take Sammy’s threat seriously. Sammy had been particularly snippy due to being trapped in the studio, lashing out in anger more than once. This had to be another one of his empty threats brought on by stress. 

But Sammy **had** been completely serious. 

And the next time the Ink Demon came around, Henry found himself pounding on the door of the Miracle Station, the heartbeat of the Ink Demon coming ever closer as Sammy casually smoked a cigarette from inside.

“SAMMY COME ON PLEASE! I SAID I WAS SORRY!” Henry wailed as he banged frantically against the door. 

Sammy took a long drag from his cigarette, taking his sweet time and blowing out a cloud of smoke. 

“Those eggs made me throw up in my favorite violin,” he said, holding Henry’s gaze. “It was an antique, Stein. _An antique_.” 

He did eventually let Henry in because he didn’t **actually** want his friend to die.

“I fucking hate you so much,” Henry grumbled, sounding more like an upset child than a 50-something man. 

“I did warn you.” Sammy gave him a smirk. 

They stayed in the Miracle Station until the Ink Demon finally left. As they started to get out, Henry, still a bit bitter, muttered under his breath,

“Sidewalk eggs.” 

He hadn’t expected Sammy to hear him.

However, Sammy had heard him and responded by shoving Henry back into the Miracle Station, locking it, and leaving. It was an hour before he came back to let Henry out. 

The sidewalk eggs were not mentioned again.

**Author's Note:**

> This is pure ridiculousness and it was so much fun to write.


End file.
